The madness of King Edward VIII: Shocking letters hidden for 76 years reveal Archbishop accused Monarch of insanity, alcoholism and persecution mania - and forced him into abdication crisis | Daily Mail Online The madness of King Edward VIII: Shocking letters hidden for 76 years reveal Archbishop accused Monarch of insanity, alcoholism and persecution mania - and forced him into abdication crisis comments He was the first celebrity Archbishop – a man of the cloth who enjoyed the trappings of power. Intelligent and charismatic, Cosmo Gordon Lang baptised the Queen and was a close friend of the Queen Mother. He became the first Archbishop of Canterbury to broadcast to the nation and is even credited with inventing the royal walkabout. But now a darker side to the Archbishop has emerged, with newly discovered Lambeth Palace archives revealing that he betrayed King Edward VIII – the Monarch he was supposed to serve – and orchestrated the Abdication crisis. Plotter: Cosmo Lang, pictured with Edward in 1936, stooped to blackmail and rumour-mongering, falsely alleging that the King was mentally ill and an alcoholic Lang colluded with the editor of The Times to threaten Edward over his affair with divorcee Wallis Simpson.

He stooped to blackmail and rumour-mongering, falsely alleging that the King was mentally ill and an alcoholic. RELATED ARTICLES Share this article Share And in a hand-written letter delivered by a footman to No 10 – a document described as the ‘smoking gun’ – Lang told Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin that Edward must go immediately. He wrote: ‘I understand that you are seeing him tonight; and doubtless you would make this plain.’ It has long been assumed that the two leading figures chiefly responsible for pushing Edward from office in 1936 were Baldwin, and the editor of The Times, Geoffrey Dawson. But an Essex vicar, the Rev Dr Robert Beaken – who interviewed the late Queen Mother and spent hours looking through dusty files in Lambeth Palace – has established that the puppetmaster was Lang. Scandal: The Archbishop had a boundless dislike of the 'playboy Prince', as Edward, right, had been described, after the Royal's affair with divorcee Wallis Simpson, left, Dr Beaken, who uncovered the archives during his research for a book, says Lang was no mere ‘bystander’ in the crisis.

‘The papers show that Lang pressurised Baldwin to ensure that the King went, and went swiftly,’ he says. 'According to Dr Beaken, parish priest of St. Katharine’s, Little Bardfield, although the Archbishop felt some sympathy for the ‘playboy prince’, as Edward had been described, he feared that the new King's behaviour would impact on the future of the monarchy.' First he colluded with Baldwin and Dawson to ensure that Edward received a clear threat: his affair with Mrs Simpson would be exposed in public unless the King abdicated. The relationship was seen as scandalous by the establishment, threatening a constitutional crisis, and no details were reported in the domestic press – though it was becoming widely reported abroad. Uncovered: Archbishop Lang's 'smoking gun' secret letter to the Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin The Archbishop’s private secretary records in his diary that: ‘Lang had some talk with Geoffrey Dawson. It seems to be agreed that Baldwin must take action quite soon in order to clear the air. Dawson is prepared to come out with an utterance in The Times if necessary.’ Baldwin authorised the delivery of a letter warning the King of their intentions.

Then, in the face of continuing public support for Edward, Lang attempted to blacken the King’s name. A devastating private letter was sent to Dawson that said: ‘My dear Dawson, I have heard from a trustworthy source that His Majesty is mentally ill and that his obsession is due not to mere obstinacy but to a deranged mind. More than once in the past he’s shown symptoms of persecution-mania. This, even apart from the present matter, would lead almost inevitably to recurring quarrels with his ministers if he remained on the throne.’ Lang also told Baldwin that Edward had undergone treatment for alcoholism using hypnotism, though he had no evidence of this. The cause of the conflict between the King and his Archbishop appears to have been a question of style as well as traditional morality. Lang had come into his own during the Depression when he recognised that the Monarchy faced a threat from a disgruntled public. 'Deranged mind': The Archbishop wrote to Times editor Geoffrey Dawson, saying that Edward was 'mentally ill' and had a 'deranged mind' His masterstroke had been to bind the Royal Family to the Church of England, helping to ensure their popularity as a God-fearing example to the nation.

But the new King was more interested in high society than the Church. He had been a modern Prince, adored by the crowds for his smooth good looks, easy charm and fashion sense. This stirred resentment at the highest levels of society even before he met Mrs Simpson. His father, George V, was horrified by his son’s relationship with ‘that dreadful common American woman’. Intrigue: Derek Jacobi as the Archbishop in the film The King's Speech with Colin Firth as Edward's brother Albert, later George VI George V confided in Lang: ‘What’s the use in all this if my son is going to ruin it after I’m gone?’ Lang’s private secretary recorded in his diaries that: ‘Edward is all out for youth and common people. He hates society and the conventions of court life. All this has its advantages in a democratic age but there are difficulties.’ Edward was equally scathing about the Archbishop, writing that he was ‘more interested in the pursuit of prestige and power than the abstractions of the human soul’. The gulf between Lang and Edward became apparent shortly after the funeral of George V on January 28, 1936.

The Archbishop feared losing his role as an intimate adviser to the Crown, while Edward described his nemesis as ‘a spectre clad in black gaitors going noiselessly about’. When Edward took Wallis to the Mediterranean that August, flaunting her to the world as if she were already Queen, the churchman was horrified. Matters came to a head when Edward and Wallis held court at Balmoral. For the first time in 25 years, Lang was not invited. Snubbed, he travelled north to his own Scottish retreat and meditated in seclusion. At that point, according to Dr Beaken, Lang became determined that Edward had to go. Lang had friends at the highest level including, it seems, Edward’s younger brother Albert, the Duke of York (father of the current Queen, and later George VI). When Lang was invited to stay with the Yorks at Birkhall, their Scottish residence, he wrote about his visit and was apparently already considering a change of Monarch. ‘The children Lilibet and Margaret Rose joined us,’ he recorded. ‘They sang . . . most charmingly.

It was strange to think of the destiny which may be awaiting the little Elizabeth.’ His invitation to Birkhall was not necessarily as innocent as it seemed: there was a sense in which the Yorks had set up a rival Court. Historian Susan Williams, author of The People’s King: The True Story Of The Abdication, explained: ‘It was not a neutral act because the Archbishop of Canterbury had always been in living memory the cornerstone of the Court. ‘Edward certainly understood this as an attack. He was in fact furious with his brother Albert and he felt that Albert had thrown the gauntlet down as if to say we’re on the offensive now.’ Turmoil: To Lang¿s horror, Winston Churchill suggested a solution that would keep Edward on the Throne: that he could marry Wallis if she became Duchess of Cornwall, rather than Queen Despite the turmoil, Edward continued with his public duties and remained popular. And to Lang’s horror, Winston Churchill suggested a solution that would keep Edward on the Throne: that he could marry Wallis if she became Duchess of Cornwall, rather than Queen.

At the time, it would have been an extraordinary departure for a king (although, when Prince Charles followed in his great-uncle’s footsteps and married a divorcee this was the very title taken by Camilla Parker Bowles, rather than Princess of Wales). Lang’s response has remained hidden for generations. In a letter to Baldwin, dated November 25, 1936, he dismisses Churchill’s plan and, warning that the scandal could go public at any time, advises the Prime Minister to tell the King that he must give up the Throne. He wrote: ‘My dear Prime Minister, Forgive me if in this letter I seem to intrude unasked into your heavy responsibilities about The Affair. I gather that it is becoming more and more difficult to prevent leakage into the press. If so, the leakage will soon become a flood and burst the dam. ‘He must leave as soon as possible.It would be out of the question that he should remain . . . any announcement that is to be made of the kind you indicate to me, it should be made as soon as possible and the announcement should appear as a free act.

‘I understand that you are seeing him tonight; and doubtless you would make this plain.’ Dr Beaken says: ‘I found this letter Lang had written to Baldwin which took my breath away. ‘It’s the smoking gun. It’s not typed. There is no carbon copy. The secretaries don’t know. The chaplains don’t know. He puts it in an envelope and then gets a footman to take it to No 10 Downing Street.’ Baldwin received the Archbishop’s letter just before he saw the King and told him bluntly the Cornwall plan was dead. Edward had found himself alone and unguided against a seasoned politician and a ruthless archbishop and the letter sealed his fate. Over the coming week Lang consulted daily with Baldwin, who was booed in Downing Street by the King’s supporters. On December 10, 1936 – exactly as Lang had intended – the King announced his decision to abdicate ‘of his own accord’. He had been on the Throne for just 325 days. ‘They were all glad he was going but pretended hard to be so very sorry,’ wrote Lang’s secretary. And the reaction of the new Queen, the late Queen Mother?

Archbishop Lang immediately received a letter of thanks and was invited to tea with her. Edward VIII: The Plot To Topple A King will be screened on Channel 4 at 9pm on May 9. Cosmo Lang, Archbishop In War And Crisis, by the Rev Dr Robert Beaken, is due to be published in October. Essential reading for the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby - Telegraph Religion Essential reading for the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby Sacred Mysteries: A new biography of Cosmo Gordon Lang throws new light on the Abdication of Edward VIII and the former Archbishop of Canterbury Cosmo Gordon Lang was at the helm of the Church of England from 1928 to 1942 Photo: Hulton Getty Comments Mrs Simpson would be made Duchess of Cornwall on marrying Edward VIII but not made Queen. That was the idea King Edward put to Queen Mary, the widow of George V. She told the Archbishop of Canterbury, Cosmo Gordon Lang, on December 1, 1936, and he went to see the prime minister, Stanley Baldwin, on December 3.

The next day, Baldwin told the Commons that there was no such thing in law as a “morganatic marriage”, as the King’s idea envisaged. On December 5, Edward decided to abdicate, and went through with it on December 10. The archbishop’s previous biographer, J G Lockhart, writing in 1949, asserted that Lang “neither influenced, nor tried to influence, the course of events”. Now a new biography, by Robert Beaken, shows that this was not true. In summary, Lang was clear that Edward, who had come to the throne on January 20, could not retain it if he married a woman twice divorced whose husbands were still living. The archbishop, in any case, had come to the conclusion that Edward was not fit to be king. Partly this was political: the King had stopped even attending to state papers. Partly it was religious: Lang recoiled from the idea of consecrating “him as King”. As he said to his chaplain: “Think of pouring all those sacred words into a vacuum.” Dr Beaken has seen papers that former biographers did not. He also knows his way around.

Earlier this year a Channel 4 documentary suggested that Lang was behind a letter written by his chaplain to the editor of The Times declaring that the King was “mentally ill”. The letter, sent from Windsor Castle, was signed ACD, which the television people said was Alan Campbell Don, Lang’s chaplain. In fact, as Dr Beaken shows, it came from Anthony Charles Deane, a canon of St George’s, Windsor, and not a mouthpiece for Lang. Related Articles New Archbishop Justin Welby pledges re-think on gay relationships 09 Nov 2012 I am immensely enthusiastic about Robert Beaken’s Cosmo Gordon Lang: Archbishop in War and Crisis (I B Tauris, £25), not just because it combines judgment and pace in telling the story of the Abdication, but because it establishes a vivid and convincing picture of the man at the helm of the Church of England from 1928 to 1942. Dr Beaken, parish priest of Little and Great Bardfield, Essex, makes Lang seem sympathetic by not hiding his weaknesses.

Thus he gets past the reaction of one clergyman who exclaimed to him: “I hate Cosmo Lang.” Lang’s main troubles were loneliness and workaholism. A well-known anecdote has him remarking that a portrait made him look “proud, pompous and prelatical”, to which Hensley Henson, the angular Bishop of Durham, responded by asking which epithet he took exception to. Far more enlightening is Lang’s judgment on his portrait by William Orpen: “It is a portrait of a very hard-working, very well-meaning, very lonely and very disappointed man.” Lang was lonely partly because he never married. Dr Beaken considers the suggestion that Lang was a repressed homosexual. He concludes that he was not. Among his discoveries is that Lang twice proposed to the same woman. He died on the way to see the actress Ann Todd, for whom he had a tendresse. The author does not claim that this proves a robust heterosexuality, but he convincingly shows that Lang’s relationships with his chaplains prove nothing to the contrary. Lang was dutiful, disciplined, frugal, ambitious and given to surface irritability (of which he was aware ) and to verbal exaggeration.

He excelled as a speaker and preacher. He enjoyed the company of important people but never wrote gossip even in private diaries or told risqué stories. He could type but never mastered the use of a fountain pen. He left, Dr Beaken judges, the Church of England stronger than he found it. The new Archbishop of Canterbury, if he has not read this book already, should not delay in doing so. Cosmo Lang. Archbishop in War and Crisis | Reviews in History Cosmo Lang. Archbishop in War and Crisis Book: Cosmo Lang. Archbishop in War and Crisis Robert Beaken London, I B Tauris, 2012, ISBN: 9781780763552; 320pp.; Price: £25.00 Reviewer: Dr Peter Webster, review of Cosmo Lang. Archbishop in War and Crisis, (review no. 1402) See Author's Response 'I HATE Cosmo Lang!’ exclaimed a member of the audience when Robert Beaken spoke to a seminar at the IHR about Lang, archbishop of Canterbury and subject of this important reassessment.

As Beaken rightly notes, Lang’s reputation has suffered in the years since his death. His time as archbishop (1928–42) spanned years of economic depression, the rise of fascism, a royal abdication and the outbreak of world war. But, despite this, the prevailing picture has been of a figure caught in the headlights, reactive rather than in the lead, a puritan and a snob; this image has not been altered by his portrayal (by Derek Jacobi) in the recent film, The King’s Speech. Lang’s case was not helped by the biography by J. G. Lockhart, published in 1949. Written without any particular acquaintance with Lang or access to his official papers, Lockhart’s book has long been unsatisfactory, but it has taken until now for a replacement to appear; and Beaken’s study goes a long way towards superseding Lockhart and presenting Lang afresh. The book has three primary concerns: with Lang’s relationship with the monarchy; with the disputed process of liturgical reform within the Church of England; and with the Second World War.

Chapter seven deals with the last, presenting a panoramic view of Lang’s work in the first and darkest days of the war, when Lang was in his mid-70s. Beaken very effectively documents Lang’s interventions at the highest level: in the articulation of peace aims; in negotiating the rhetorically difficult transformation of Soviet Russia from enemy to ally; in articulating the need for national intercession and for remembrance of the 1914–18 conflict in changed circumstances. There are important refinements to the literature in relation to Lang’s early opposition to the obliteration bombing of Germany (191–3), and (in response to the work of Tom Lawson) concerning who knew what and when within the Church in relation to the Holocaust (206–7). But these national affairs were not the limit of an archbishop’s concerns. Beaken very effectively documents Lang’s interventions in relation to refugees, evacuees and conscientious objectors, to venereal disease in the army abroad, and to the observance of the Sabbath at home. Lang was supportive of the government and the war effort because he strongly believed that the struggle was a just and necessary one.

At the same time, there were limits to what could be morally acceptable even in war, and Lang intervened in private and public as far as there was any likelihood of those efforts being effective. Chapter six deals with the stalemate in relation to liturgical revision that Lang inherited after the rejection by Parliament of the revised Book of Common Prayer in 1927–8. Lang has been taxed by later historians, following both Lockhart and George Bell, bishop of Chichester and acute observer of the ecclesiastical scene, for failing to address the impasse between church and state, and the near-ungovernability of the Church while that situation continued. While this reviewer would want to stress the gravity of the crisis in church-state relations while Beaken downplays it, in the matter of Lang’s role Beaken’s interpretation is convincing. Lang may not have been gripped by liturgical reform, and so may have lacked a ‘sustained pushfulness’ (179), but it was probably beyond any archbishop to devise a compromise solution without being able to impose it.

It was to be a quarter of a century after Lang’s retirement before the means to revise the Book were finally secured, and even then not without the threat of a renewed crisis in Parliament. Chapters four and five, which deal with Lang’s relationship with the monarchy in general, and the abdication crisis in particular, are very clearly the centrepiece of the book. Beaken’s aim is to emphasise Lang’s role in the events of the reign of Edward VIII, in contrast to Lockhart who stressed the peripheral nature of the archbishop’s role. In this aim Beaken is certainly successful: using recently declassified sources, he provides a scrupulous and minutely detailed chronological account of Lang’s role; though this was never public until the very end, he was always (in the words of the former king) ‘a shadowy, hovering presence … invisibly and noiselessly about’. Of particular interest is the closeness of the relationship between Lang and Prime Minister Baldwin, perhaps one of the closest in modern times. The book may find a general readership for this section alone, and the recommendations on the dust jacket from A. N. Wilson and Rowan Williams suggests that this is the hope of the publisher.

It is unfortunately in these two chapters that significant problems in execution show themselves. In the chapters on the war and the Prayer Book, narrative and analysis are effectively integrated and the writing is concise and incisive. In marked contrast, the royal chapters are marred by a luxuriant, not to say indulgent, level of narrative detail, and by numerous and very lengthy quotations from primary sources, which ought to have been either radically pruned and integrated more fully into the text, or (even better) given in full in an appendix. Beaken also opts to separate out narrative and analysis, giving the latter separately at the end of each chapter, but the approach left this reader, at least, hurrying through the detail to reach the pith. There are also some matters of interpretation on which Beaken is less sure-footed. For Beaken, Lang’s radio broadcast of December 1936 (this source alone being given its full worth in an appendix) was ‘an unusually unwise and unreflective action’ (122), in that Lang allowed himself to reflect unfavourably on the mores of the social circle around the former king.

However, the receipt of many letters and a ‘torrent of abuse’ in the popular press does not necessarily prove that an archbishop is not doing his job, but only that he has expressed an unpopular view. Despite Lang’s evident enjoyment of the quiet entwining of archbishop and establishment, he was able to see where lines should be drawn. At the broadest scale, the book is strangely shaped, such that it appears not as a rounded study of an archbishop at a time of crisis, but as three substantial studies of particular issues, hedged around with some rather desultory supporting materials. The three themes of the royal connection, the war and the Prayer Book crisis between them occupy two-thirds of the book, with the royal material alone forming nearly a third. This leads Beaken to neglect other issues that merited fuller treatment. Lang’s path from bishop of Stepney (1901) to his arrival at Canterbury in 1928 are dealt with in five breathless pages (15–19), although this period included the controversy over Lang’s public comments on the First World War, which cries out for more coverage.

Similarly, Beaken’s account of a pivotal time in ecumenical relations at home and abroad is perfunctory. Lang’s time in office also saw acute economic hardship and the Jarrow March, as well as the rise of home-grown Fascism and pitched violence on the streets to counter it. None of these receive the slightest treatment, in a study entitled Archbishop in War and Crisis. There is little sense here of Auden’s ‘low dishonest decade’. Significant space is instead given over to a discussion of Lang’s sexuality. Beaken is largely successful in showing that Lang was probably not a repressed homosexual, but a lonely figure who found it difficult to form close personal relationships of any kind. To this reviewer, however, it is not clear that those making the case for Lang’s homosexuality ever established why the matter should be all that important, and neither is Beaken convincing as to why it is important that Lang was not. It is on the wider canvas of interpretation that there are opportunities missed. In the conclusion, Beaken rightly emphasises that in the period between the wars the office of archbishop still mattered in English public life.

The opinion of Canterbury was sought and listened to on matters of moment, and the archbishop’s correspondence clearly shows that many of the general public expected something of ‘their archbishop’, even if those expectations were inchoately expressed and neither compatible nor realistic. All this is right, and worth emphasising; but it is difficult to recognise the ‘simple narrative of secularisation’ against which Beaken sets himself as one now held by very many historians. The work variously of Callum Brown, Grace Davie, Hugh McLeod and many others have all deepened and complicated our understandings of what secularisation is and how it occurs; Beaken is therefore pushing at, if not an open door, one which has been unlocked and left ajar. Much the same degree of respect as had been accorded to the archbishop in the inter-war period was paid to Michael Ramsey in the 1960s, by which time the pace of secularisation had quickened and its effect spread much wider. The range of manuscript sources is impressive: this must be one of few archiepiscopal biographies that takes in sources from the FBI, alongside an interview with the Queen Mother.

It is clearly and accessibly written, although prone to cliché: Lang had a ‘complex personality’ (who doesn’t); as a boy ‘with a vivid imagination’ Lang ‘was a bit of a loner’ (9); parts of Lang’s radio broadcast after the abdication were ‘surprisingly boring.’ It is well-produced, with a comprehensive index (not always the case), but is let down in places by some lax editing. Both Michael Ramsey and Dick Sheppard (examples chosen at random) appear first by surname only, to be introduced formally to the reader only later on; a straightforward point that should have been picked up. These criticisms aside, Beaken’s study is greatly to be welcomed, and may open the way for a better integration of Lang into the study of the period. April 2013 BBC NEWS | UK | Edward VIII's links to a mystic Edward VIII's links to a mystic Edward VIII pictured in November 1936 shortly before his abdication Further evidence has emerged that King Edward VIII was seeing a mystic during the abdication crisis, prompting the Archbishop of Canterbury to intervene.

Previously undisclosed archives tell the story of a king in the grip of a man known as "The Yorkshire Yogi". Dr Alexander Cannon trained as a medic, and dabbled in alternative treatments, mystic techniques and black magic. Lambeth Palace was tipped off that the King was receiving hypnotic treatment from Dr Cannon for a drink problem. The new archive evidence is examined by reporter Sean Stowell in BBC Radio 4's The Archive Hour. Would you kindly tell me whether you think this Dr Cannon is a really trustworthy person? Dr Cosmo Lang, Archbishop of Canterbury Edward VIII reigned for only 11 months, abdicating in December 1936 so that he could marry the American divorcee Wallis Simpson. The marriage was opposed by politicians of the day and would have caused a constitutional crisis if he had remained on the throne. Archbishop's concerns The allegation about the King's contact at that time with Dr Cannon was made in a letter from a country vicar to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Cosmo Lang. The Archbishop began an investigation into the claims and alerted the prime minister about his concerns.

In a letter dated 9 December 1936, Dr Lang wrote to William Brown, a Harley Street doctor, that he had been "informed by a credible person that a certain Dr Cannon... has been recently attending the King". "Would you kindly tell me whether you think this Dr Cannon is a really trustworthy person? He seems from the accounts I have received to be one who encourages somewhat dangerous methods of treatment." Dr Alexander Cannon was investigated by the security services The Lambeth Palace documents have been studied in detail by the programme reporter, Sean Stowell, and Roger Sims, an archivist at the Manx Museum who has led the research into Cannon. Mr Sims said: "It was believed that Cannon was having an adverse influence on the King, who was at that time under considerable pressure and who was having various treatments for various problems. "They're very concerned about the influence Cannon is having on the King. He's an unorthodox medical practitioner and is becoming quite close to the King, a confidant." Exotic remedies Dr Cannon was the subject of an MI5 investigation and then an establishment cover-up before settling in virtual exile in the Isle of Man, where he put on magic shows and psychic performances.

Taped recordings of Dr Cannon reveal some of his beliefs and theories, from how to be happy to the secret behind magic-carpet journeys across Asia. They were discovered at the home of an amateur magician on the Isle of Man and are now in the Manx Museum. He employed two female assistants who helped with performances. One act involved one of the women being put into a hypnotic trance to diagnose physical and psychological problems, as she glared at the patient. The mystery was achieved against the background of exotic music and incense. Dr Cannon was renowned for prescribing exotic remedies for stress, alcoholism, sex and confidence problems. Treatments included electrotherapies and Tibetan hypnosis techniques, learned while Dr Cannon was a prison doctor in China. He lived at the neo Gothic mansion, Ballamore Castle, and his flamboyant lifestyle and love of black, a flowing cape and winged collars led a judge on the island to describe him as "eccentric". Before he moved to the Isle of Man, Dr Cannon practised in central London, with consulting rooms near Harley Street. Further evidence of the King's links to Dr Cannon come in a recorded interview with Piers Compton, the former literary editor of The Universe Catholic newspaper.

He said he had been told that King Edward was in the grip of "the leader of black magic in England", who had been called in to treat him for drunkenness. Mysticism was all the rage in the cocktail set of the 1930s. The rich and famous made Dr Cannon a wealthy man, spending a small fortune on treatments at his consulting rooms. In another archived interview, a socialite of the day, John Gastor, said the King had been "entrapped and ensnared" by Dr Cannon. Lambeth Palace was tipped off just as the news broke about the King's relationship with Mrs Simpson. Eleven days later, the King abdicated. His biographer Philip Ziegler, said it was probable the King did receive treatment from "the Yorkshire Yogic", but his major influence remained Mrs Simpson and not Dr Cannon. Bookmark with: Shocking letters hidden for 76 yrs reveals Edward VIII's Abdication was orchestrated by - Democratic Underground Shocking letters hidden for 76 yrs reveals Edward VIII's Abdication was orchestrated by the Archbishop of Canterbury Cosmo Lang. snip The cause of the conflict between the King and his Archbishop appears to have been a question of style as well as traditional morality.

snip He stooped to blackmail and rumour-mongering, falsely alleging that the King was mentally ill and an alcoholic. snip A devastating private letter was sent to Dawson that said: ï¿½My dear Dawson, I have heard from a trustworthy source that His Majesty is mentally ill and that his obsession is due not to mere obstinacy but to a deranged mind. More than once in the past heï¿½s shown symptoms of persecution-mania. This, even apart from the present matter, would lead almost inevitably to recurring quarrels with his ministers if he remained on the throne.ï¿½ Replies to this discussion thread 36 replies Shocking letters hidden for 76 yrs reveals Edward VIII's Abdication was orchestrated by (Original post) snagglepuss Apr 2012 #16 Apr 2012 #28 Apr 2012 #13 May 2012 #31 MADem (134,732 posts) 3. Well, the guy did a good thing, at the end of the day. Eddie and Wally were fans of Hitler.

Had Germany won the war, they would have been the Puppet Royalty of the British Empire. ...In 1941, while they were holidaying in Florida, the exiled former king and his consort, now the Duke and the Duchess of Windsor, were spied upon by the FBI on the orders of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. These FBI files, written in the 1940s and now released under Americaï¿½s Freedom of Information Act, detailed that the Duchess might have been passing secrets to a leading Nazi with whom she was thought to have had an affair and that His Majestyï¿½s Government had known for the fact for some time. Following Edwardï¿½s accession, the German embassy in London sent a cable for the personal attention of Hitler himself. It read: ï¿½An alliance between Germany and Britain is for him (the King) an urgent necessity.ï¿½ In October 1937, the Windsors visited Nazi Germany, met Hitler at his Obersalzberg retreat (above), dined with his deputy, Rudolf Hess, and even visited a concentration camp. The campï¿½s guard towers were explained away as meat stores for the inmates.

The visit was against the advice of the British government and during the visit the Duke gave full Nazi salutes. At the outbreak of war, the duke served as a military liaison officer in Paris. Hitler made an abortive attempt to bring Edward and his wife to Nazi-sympathetic Spain, and greatly alarmed, the British establishment finally packing the duke off to the Bahamas from 1940-45. Deeply disenchanted by the society that had spun him, the Duke made his Nazi sympathies explicit, once telling a journalist that ï¿½it would be a tragic thing for the world if Hitler was overthrownï¿½. In another break from his usual unassuming boyish behavior, he remarked, ï¿½After the war is over and Hitler will crush the Americans. Weï¿½ll take over. They (the British) donï¿½t want me as their King, but Iï¿½ll be back as their leader.ï¿½ After the war, the duke and duchess returned to France. He died there in 1972, while the Duchess lived on until 1986.... renate (9,567 posts) 13.

oh, poo The Yorks didn't set up a "rival court" in hopes of snagging the monarchy--they were horrified and upset about it. George VI cried on his mother's shoulder for an hour when it was clear that it was inevitable, and realized that he'd never been trained for the job, as being a naval officer was all he ever knew. Once Wallis came into the picture (and while I don't particularly like her, I don't blame her--the obsessive love was one-sided), Edward/David was paranoid about anybody who didn't agree with him, and that included the Archbishop of Canterbury. He would have been a horrible, self-focused king along the lines of George IV, so if Cosmo Lang was dead-set against him, thank goodness for that. Every little bit helps. The new Queen Elizabeth probably sent Lang a thank-you note out of politeness and gratitude for his emotional support, not for his having gotten them onto the throne.

They didn't want it--she had turned Bertie (later George VI) down three times before accepting him, because she didn't even want the life of a royal duchess, let alone that of a queen) and she later felt that the stresses of kingship had shortened her husband's life. Goodness, I need to get a life. But however pathetic it is that I have any feelings at all on this matter, this article is full of poo about people's motives, even if it's correct about what happened. obamanut2012 (12,423 posts) 18. Also, as you stated, Wallis didn't even really want to marry him She just wanted to enjoy the social power associated with being his mistress. HE was the one who was obsessive about her, even after she left the country and told him to drop the whole marriage thing. David was an emotionally immature, rather stupid man who was known to gleefully bed other men's wives as his "right." George V stated that he hoped David never had children, so that nothing would keep Bertie (George VI) and Lilibet (Elizabeth II) from the throne.

He knew David was a loose cannon frat boy who didn't understand duty. Imagine him during the Blitz??? TorchTheWitch (11,065 posts) 22. All true He was entirely self-focused and an embarrassment with his open womanizing and playboy lifestyle. He was never interested in being King in the first place and wasn't shy about who knew it... he used to frequently joke with Princess Elizabeth calling her "Queen Elizabeth" as he had already long been considering abdication even before meeting Wallis. He just wasn't interested in the job and was continually at loggerheads with his ministers about everything that he wanted to do (even the good things like the government helping out the poor miners in Wales which horrified the "1%" government), though it was his Nazi sympathies that were likely the most upsetting thing about him to the government. The law forbade his marriage to Wallis as both her previous husbands still lived. He even offered to cut any children by him and Wallis from the succession, but according to the law he couldn't unless he wanted to cause a constitutional crisis which he wasn't willing to go that far and do.

His choices were either dump her or abdicate, so he chose abdication, which was not such a big deal to him since he didn't really want to be King anyway. And thank goodness he did because he would have been a horror as King especially considering the huge problem of Germany at that time. GCP (8,158 posts) 33. They never invaded Britain because Hitler believed in Goerring Goerring told him the Luftwaffe could get rid of Britain's air defences thereby making it an easy target for invasion, but the Luftwaffe's plan to bomb British airfields was thwarted by superior equipment in the form of Spitfire fighters which were faster and more manoeuvrable than the German fighter escorts. This was the Battle of Britain in 1940. Hitler had been all set to invade that year, but when Goerring's airforce was shown to be inadequate for the job, and lost many aircraft, Hitler switched to bombing cities, the invasion was indefinitely postponed and never happened because then he decided to invade the USSR and the rest, as they say, is history. 35. Edward VIII/David did not want to fight his German cousins. Simple.

About George V, Elizabeth II's grandfather: George's relationship with his eldest son and heir, Edward, deteriorated in these later years. George was disappointed in Edward's failure to settle down in life and appalled by his many affairs with married women. In contrast, he was fond of his second eldest son, Prince Albert (later George VI), and doted on his eldest granddaughter, Princess Elizabeth; he nicknamed her "Lilibet", and she affectionately called him "Grandpa England". In 1935 George said of his son Edward: "After I am dead, the boy will ruin himself within 12 months", and of Albert and Lilibet: "I pray to God my eldest son will never marry and have children, and that nothing will come between Bertie and Lilibet and the throne." He must have been a very wise man to foresee what happened.

Edward VIII: the Plot to Topple a King, Channel 4, review - Telegraph TV and Radio Edward VIII: the Plot to Topple a King, Channel 4, review Iain Hollingshead reviews Edward VIII: the Plot to Topple a King, a channel 4 docudrama exploring the former Archbishop of Canterbury Cosmo Gordon Lang's bid to oust the monarch. 3 Turbulent priest: Cosmo Gordon Lang (played by David Calder) in C4’s The Plot to Topple a King Photo: Channel 4 Follow One hopes that whoever succeeds Rowan Williams won’t take their inspiration from Edward VIII: the Plot to Topple a King (Channel 4). For whereas the official version of the abdication has always had Stanley Baldwin, the Prime Minister, and Geoffrey Dawson, the editor of The Times, conniving to nudge a love-struck monarch into exile, this engaging docudrama looked instead at the role of Cosmo Gordon Lang, the Archbishop of Canterbury (played here by David Calder). One was left in little doubt that the politician and the journalist had nothing on the cleric when it came to deploying underhand methods to get their way.

Lang, we were told by an unseen narrator who sounded like she could do with a good cough sweet, was “the first media archbishop”. A confidante of George V, Edward’s father, he wrote the King’s radio speeches, suggested his walkabouts and choreographed the 1935 Jubilee celebrations. Edward, for his part, was “the first media darling”, adored by his people. And yet the only attribute the two men shared was their mutual loathing. Lang thought Edward too fond of “vulgar society”. Edward described the archbishop as “too polished, too worldly – more interested in the pursuit of prestige and power than the abstractions of the human soul”. If it had been 800 years earlier, perhaps he might have found someone to rid him of this turbulent priest. Instead, he was stuck with him. George V died in January 1936. Three hundred and twenty six days later, Lang had engineered Edward’s abdication in favour of his brother, Albert. Some of the Archbishop’s behaviour could be excused as the actions of a man trying to do what he fervently thought best – not just for himself, but for the country, the monarchy and the Church.

His chaplain, Alan Don, whose newly discovered diaries formed the basis of this programme, was shocked by the pictures of Edward and the twice-divorced Mrs Simpson appearing in the foreign press. Lang thought he could mould the new king. Related Articles 'England has a terrible crisis of identity' 09 Sep 2005 And yet once it became clear that Edward had no intention of giving up Mrs Simpson, Lang’s tactics became outrageous. When his cunning letters to Baldwin and Dawson had little effect, he got one of his staff to write a letter to the editor of The Times saying that Edward had used hypnotism to combat his alcoholism. Adding injury to insult, Lang gave his own public broadcast two days after the abdication, a spectacularly ill-judged act of hypocrisy which attacked the King as “misguided and disgusting” for finally doing what Lang had tried so hard to effect. Not that it seemed to bother Lang. He was soon back where he thought he belonged, having tea with the new queen. And at least everyone from the Duke of Cambridge to Colin Firth to everyone who enjoyed The King’s Speech can be grateful for what he did.

Question: Who was the Archbishop of Canterbury at the time of Edward VIII's abdication?
Answer: COSMO GORDON LANG